


Protective Factors

by BlathersThe0wl



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlathersThe0wl/pseuds/BlathersThe0wl
Summary: Single father Eddie Kaspbrak meets ski park volunteer Richie Tozier when he takes his daughter skiing in Vermont for spring break. When Eddie overestimates his skiing abilities and Richie plays a prank on Eddie as revenge for his rudeness, Richie has to race against the setting sun to rescue Eddie and his daughter. Working through their misunderstanding, the two men find out they make a powerful team.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Beginner trail

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first fic for this fandom and my first fic in a long time! I hope you enjoy it. I have this fic outlined and hope to update every 2 weeks. Rating M for later chapters.

Richie looked up from the equipment room shelves and out into the evening partition of the ski lodge for what felt like the first time in hours. It had been a sunny afternoon, good for traveling, good for skiing, and the Rutland Adventure Park had been absolutely slammed with visitors and regulars alike. Usually there was a steady stream of people, especially in March while nearby counties were on spring break, but he tended to have at least a few minutes to breathe - to look out and see if he recognized any cars in the lot, to see if there were any birds at the feeder or if the seed needed topping up, to mop the floor and check the washrooms, and to collect returned rental equipment and sort it back where it belonged. 

He almost always had a chance to slip into the main part of the lodge for a meal from the kitchen, to listen to a podcast while he cleaned, or to sit by a window and read a couple of pages of his book between visitors. Not today. Today had been non-stop, and the room showed it. There was hot chocolate spilled all over a table, and the garbage can by the main door was overflowing. Well, the back door, since the actual main door had swelled shut but all the regulars knew to use the back door. He didn’t even want to think about the state of the washrooms. 

With a sigh, Richie flopped down on the stool at the counter and ran his index finger over the log book. As busy as they’d been, almost everyone who’d headed out on the trails was back now. He flipped back through the pages. Usually it never seemed like that many people had been through, but when you started at the day’s first entry - almost always a local go-getter with a headlamp, fitting in some fast laps before the sun was up, before a shift at the mill or the hospital - and scanned all the way down to the end of the day - a surprising amount of people of all ages had skied. 

The impact of this place couldn’t fully be assessed by hanging out in the lodge for 30 minutes; it could seem peaceful, underused even. But considered from sun up to sun down, a significant number of people were coming out for exercise, fresh air, and time with nature and community - no matter the outside air temperature. Besides, it was always nicer in the woods. Provided they continued to get enough snow. Climate change and declining snowfall were a constant source of anxiety for everyone involved in running the park.

Richie ran a hand through his shaggy hair - he played with it almost constantly, tugging out little tangles, causing it to be almost permanently fluffy, leaving stray dark strands everywhere he went - the console of his car, the counter in the equipment room - hopefully never in the big pot of chili in the kitchen. He’d been volunteering at the park for over a decade now. It was a hidden gem in his small community in Vermont. It had started out as a downhill ski run. Over the years such an endeavor became unsustainable, and for as long as Richie had been there, during the winter the trails were only groomed for cross-country skiing. 

The sport had been at peak popularity in the 1970s, and the posters and framed photos in the lodge were mostly from its heyday. While no longer as popular in North America, fifty years on it was at least simple enough to provide for and could be enjoyed by people of all ages, and so their little community club chugged along into the new millennium. Richie was proud to have witnessed both the trails and the lodge expand since he arrived. It had always been a special spot, but the effort by the volunteer board paid off in so many ways. They’d started with just a few trails - beginner, medium, and advanced - but thanks to an incredible amount of hard work and fundraising, they’d since cut many more trails through the woods, allowing for adventures of a variety of distances and difficulties. 

The lodge itself was a place of pride too. It was a typical wood log cabin with big windows, fireplaces, and wood stoves. But where it had previously only housed a tiny inaccessible washroom and a rodent-infested kitchen, renovations and expansions had given them a suitably sized equipment room, modern accessible washrooms, a large kitchen and canteen, and a sprawling interior with tables and ski waxing facilities. On typical nights, the paid daytime staff closed down the main parts of the lodge at the end of their shifts, leaving Richie and his fellow volunteers with a smaller area to maintain during quieter hours. Fairy lights brought it to life at night, alongside the roaring fires and the smell of cider bubbling on a wood stove. Inside the lodge and out, the park was one of Richie’s favorite places in the world. 

Richie had just turned up the radio and slid over a photocopied page of closing duties when the back door to the lodge banged open. Fire-warmed air rushed out and cool outside air swirled in. He hardly had time to turn his head to greet the new guests before a fast-talking spitfire stomped his way up to the counter. 

“I tried your front door, which is shoveled out and _looks_ like the entrance to use because - it’s got signage, it’s lit, it’s shoveled, but your damn door won’t open!!! Did you forget to unlock it or something?! Or are you trying to get away with closing early, you lazy fu- Anyway then my daughter and I had to trudge all the way around back here to get in, and now there’s snow all over my boots that I hadn’t intended on getting wet today-” The man stood upright and stern at the counter, tapping the business end of a pen onto the log book, staring at Richie like he’s his boss and he’s waiting for the TPS report. 

Richie sputtered and laughed. 

“-What the fuuuu… hi, welcome. Well, despite the sticky front door you’ve found your way inside Rutland ski lodge. Are you and your daughter planning to ski this after-”

“YES we’re planning to ski, I just drove four fucking hours from Manhattan to get here to take her skiing, we’re going skiing, now stop asking me stupid questions and rent me a trail pass and some gear!” The man exploded at Richie, full of exasperation. Meanwhile, an even shorter figure gracefully slipped inside the lodge and carefully closed the door. A child with long light brown hair and a full snow suit, who rolled her eyes at - presumably, her father - before smiling at Richie and standing just behind and to the side of his newest and most baffling client.

“Okay, glad to hear it!” Richie continued, drawing on his reserves of bravery in the face of this fire-as-human form. “Well, normally we have a system of streetlights covering 3 miles of trails, but unfortunately they haven’t been repaired since the storm on Thursday that brought us to our knees, so we’re at the mercy of the sun in terms of visibility today. You’ve got...almost 90 minutes before sunset. Did you happen to bring a headlamp?”

The man wordlessly swung his backpack around to his side and opened up the main compartment. Indeed, he had brought a headlamp - headlamps, even. 

“That’s great! Do you have any spare batteries?”

“Listen scout master, are proof of spare batteries required before I get out on the trail?”

“...no….”

“I don’t appreciate having my incompetence assumed. I’m always prepared. I have spare batteries. Now can you spare me the lectures and rent us some skis or not?”

Richie exhaled and paused before jumping back into - whatever this was. “Buddy, you’re from out of state, it doesn’t seem like you’ve been here before, and I’m just trying to help.” He closed his mouth and locked eyes with the stranger, waiting for his reply. Richie had never had an interaction at the ski club go like this before.

The man looked directly into his eyes. Richie could finally hold still while he gripped the counter. Could finally study him in the first beat of silence. The man was notably shorter than Richie, with expressive brown eyes and a slim, serious face. 

“Okay,” the man said haltingly, “my name is Eddie and I would like to rent some skis and enjoy your trails.” Richie smiled. It had taken them a few minutes, but they were on track now. 

“Okay...” Richie returned, relieved at being able to smile and relax. “How tall are you, Eddie?”

“Fuck you, bro.” Eddie hissed at him, despite his daughter’s presence.

Richie’s smile fell. What the fuck? They had finally made some progress. At this rate, Eddie and his daughter would only ever experience the joy of tying on used ski boots before the sun set. 

“Eddie.” Richie stood perfectly still, leaning his hips against the equipment room counter. His arms, in all their waffle-print fabric glory, were crossed in front of him. His dark blue eyes looked down into the narrowed brown eyes of the man standing defensively on the other side of the counter. “We assign people skis by height and weight. It’s part of how skis work. I am asking your height so that I can rent you a suitably sized ski.”

Eddie didn’t flinch, back away, or break contact. His lower lip dropped only a fraction of an inch as he looked Richie in the eye, raised his eyebrows to the same degree and declared: “I am of average height for a North American male.” 

_Fine, dude. Fuck you, dude._ Richie thought. _It’s Sunday night, I only have one couple out on the trails, and you want to treat me like this? Fine. I’ll give you average._ In Richie’s mind, 6 feet tall was average. 200 pounds was average. He didn’t fully believe that he was correct, but it seemed close enough. Besides, given Eddie’s attitude he doubted he would be able to get the man to step into the back for a proper equipment assessment. Eddie thought he was a big dog? Fine, the obviously shorter-than-Richie man could ski in gear meant for someone above 6 feet tall and 200 pounds. _Fuck you, average bro._

“Great.” Richie smiled. “I guess that simplifies everything. I’ll just grab you our average equipment. Now I just need your shoe size in a European measurement.”

Eddie looked like he was about to blow a gasket. “I’m a size 10.” he said, evenly. 

“Okay, that translates into…” Richie ran his finger down a table taped against his side of the counter “...European size 43. Nice when the measuring system takes something small and makes it larger, huh?” Without waiting for his reaction, he turned his back to Eddie to reach into the boot storage aisle and grab a pair of size 43 boots, then back towards the compact, uptight man. 

“Here you go. Let me know how these feel and I’ll grab the rest of your gear once they’re on.” Eddie glared, snatched the boots from Richie and stomped just slightly petulantly back towards his daughter. For her part, she looked up at Richie with a steady smile.

“Hi.” Richie waved and greeted her. “Are you going to be as much of a pain in my butt as your old man?” Her smile grew wider, and Richie’s own responded in kind. 

“I hope not.” The child continued to grin at him. “My European boot size is 36. You can measure me for the skis and poles if you want.” 

“Thanks. What’s your name, kid?”

“I’m Jubilee,” she replied easily, maintaining eye contact and sticking her hand out. 

“Richie.” He reached and shook her hand once, marveling at her confidence and ease. 

“Your name is really cool. Do you like the X-men?” Jubilee smiled and looked over at her dad, who had finished lacing his boots. He made eye contact with her and rose from his seat. The father and daughter duo started humming a tune that Richie quickly placed. He broke out into fond laughter.

“Holy crap. I haven’t heard that song in a long time. You two are the coolest.”

Jubilee smiled again - what a thousand watt kid, and with such a grouchy dad! - and bashfully replied “Thanks, Dad really loved the cartoon. My mom thought it was too violent for me to watch but once they split up Dad made sure to educate me on the classics.” She and Eddie had their eyes on each other while she spoke. 

Eddie turned back to Richie, who waved the duo back behind the counter. 

“Okay Jubilee, you want the tip of the ski to reach the base of your wrist, when your arm is held straight above your head. Note that you do not ski like this - this posture is for ski measurement purposes only!” Jubilee laughed, arms lifted as high as she could reach. “And for classical skiing, you want the pole to reach your armpit. Again - not a place it should go while you ski.” Eyeballing her height, Richie reached into the racks for her gear. “What do you think, kiddo?”

“Seems okay to me?” She made eye contact with Eddie, who nodded with a forced smile. “Okay.” Richie handed Eddie the skis and poles he’d used himself earlier in the day. If the customer couldn’t bother to get measured properly, he’d just get what Richie gave him.

They carried their gear out around to the other side of the counter, while Richie scribbled some numbers on his sheet of closing duties. 

“Jubilee, you’re a student, right?” Richie squinted while trying to calculate their rental cost. 

“She’s 10, of course she’s a student, numbnuts.”

“Okay Dad, just checking.” Richie looked up at Eddie and raised his hands in surrender. “What if she had a medical condition where she just looks young, like progeria?”

Eddie stared at him, stock still for a moment. Then he spoke very slowly. “Progeria is the opposite of that. Can’t you tell from the Greek, pro gēras, pro geria, geriatric, old age?” He focused very intently on Richie, making a slow but deadly-looking chopping motion with his hand while explaining the etymology. 

“Sir, this is a Wendy’s.” The only halfway-intelligent thing Richie can think of in reply. Jubilee guffawed. Eddie glared, clicked his jaw, and rolled his eyes. Richie could tell he’d like to turn away, but he was stuck waiting with his wallet out for Richie to give him the total.

Richie cleared his throat and got back to his calculations. _Student trail pass and gear rental plus adult trail pass and gear rental minus evening rate discount_ \- “That’ll be $26 please.”

Eddie’s got his black Amex ready and waiting, but this is not in fact a Wendy’s, and Richie can’t do credit after the main lodge is closed for the night. 

“Sorry high roller, put your adamantium card away - cash only.”

Eddie’s doe eyes widened. “You’re effing kidding me. And this is obviously a black Amex.”

"Dad, he was making a Wolverine joke." Jubilee giggled approvingly at Richie, while Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, my mistake. Sadly I’m not kidding. The good cash register is in the closed part of the lodge." Richie elaborated sheepishly. "I’m just a volunteer - do you think I know how to swipe cards?”

“Shit. I don’t have any cash on me at all. Can we ski tonight and pay tomorrow?” Eddie looked genuinely distressed. Jubilee shifted in her rented boots.

Richie smiled, thinking about how far the pair had driven just for this short ski. “It’s okay, I’ll cover you guys.” He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, flipping it open to grab some cash. His own titanium MasterCard was visible, if one happened to be looking. Head still bowed to his wallet, he looked up through his lashes to see Eddie clocking the card. Richie winked, deftly plucking a twenty and a ten from the billfold, leaving behind a thick stack of other bills. 

Eddie is rendered speechless, embarrassed - by the credit-card-off, by the wink, by not being able to pay - by all of it mixed together, Richie assumed. He offered the man an out: “You can make a donation to our youth program if you want to pay me back. The link’s on our website.” He paused for a moment. “Your adamantium card will work there.” Richie smirked another half-wink at the tightly-wound guest.

“Thanks,” Eddie muttered, turning away to finish getting ready. Jubilee looked up at Richie again, still kind and calm, but wordlessly followed her dad back to their seats. Eddie knelt on the ground to help her into her boots. 

Richie felt ashamed for a moment for having taken their banter too far. He cleared his throat again and asked awkwardly “Uh, did you dress in layers?”

“Yes, Richie, we dressed in layers, with wool socks.” Eddie answered perfunctorily from the ground, not bothering to raise his head from where he focused on tying Jubilee’s ski boots. They stood, and Eddie turned to start towards the back door, skis and poles in hand.

“Wait, oh, I forgot to get you to sign in! Jubilee, do you want to put your info down here while I show your dad the map?”

She smiled and made her way over to the log book, where she started writing in the next free line. Richie drew Eddie’s attention to a map on the counter. A small part of his brain was feeling the itch to fess up about the skis and get Eddie into something lighter and shorter.

“These are our trails. You still have just over an hour before sunset, and it’ll still be light enough to see for about 20 minutes after that. I would still recommend that you stick to our beginner trail, which is just under 2 miles long. You should have time to complete that trail before it’s dark out.”

Eddie simply nodded and turned towards Jubilee. “Okay kid, you ready?” She put the pen down and nodded.

“I can come outside to help you get your boots into the ski bindings, and get you pointed in the right direction. Do you have any questions?”

Jubilee had turned from the log book and was most of the way to the door. Eddie just stood staring at Richie. “Richie, can you ski?”

“Yes, -”

“-well then how hard can it be? I’m sure Jubilee and I will be fine. Besides,” Eddie quirked his head in the direction of the hot chocolate mess - “it looks like you have enough work to do in here.”

“Alright. Well. Have a good ski. You have just over an hour to get back. I’ll be locking up here at 5:30pm.” The itch was gone. The man truly was rude. _I hope he has a slightly shitty ski in his too large gear,_ Richie thought to himself. _Serves his short Wolverine ass right._

Richie watched from the equipment room window while Eddie helped Jubilee get her boots into her skis. She was holding her poles correctly and eagerly watching her dad, ready to get moving. Eddie, however, tried and failed to get his boots to click into the bindings. Richie wanted to look away and get back to work but he couldn’t resist the schadenfreude of witnessing Eddie’s frustration mount. He flailed his arms in the air and toppled into the snow time and time again, his red ski coat now fully dusted with white flakes. Even when it looked like he was finally ready to go, Eddie lifted his foot and after an agonizing beat, the ski fell off and started sliding away. 

Richie couldn’t watch any longer. He turned his eyes instead to Jubilee, who was doubled over with laughter. Eddie’s face was as red as his toque. Richie couldn’t keep his own laughter in check anymore, but his timing could not have been worse - Eddie happened to look back towards the lodge to see if anyone had witnessed his struggles. He saw Ritchie in the window and raised a mittened hand in the air in defiance. At that, Jubilee dropped to the snow with overwhelming laughter. She was shouting something at her dad that Richie couldn’t make out - but he couldn’t miss the steam coming from Eddie’s ears as he used the other mittened hand to pinch the top of his outstretched hand, drawing the mitten up and away to reveal an extended middle finger. He’d watched enough hockey on TV to be able to read what Eddie’s lips were saying.

Richie shook his head, whole upper body shaking in laughter too. He walked around to the back door and threw it open.

“Seriously, do you guys need a hand? It’s not embarrassing, it’s hard to get those darn boots clicked in. I fall over pretty much every time.” 

Eddie waved him off without a word. He had one ski on, and gracelessly poled over to where his other ski had finally come to rest. Knocking the loose snow out of the grooves of his boot, he tried one more time to click into the binding, and it seemed to take. Without looking back at Richie, he called out to his daughter: “Come on Jubilee, let’s go, daylight’s burning!”

Richie stood watching, partially proud, partially afraid, partially dumbfounded. _What a funny guy._ Partially turned on.

Under his breath, standing on the back porch of the ski lodge in the fading light, Richie muttered: “That guy is a nightmare. And hot as hell. Thank fuck he’s straight.”


	2. Moderate trail

Richie eagerly awaited Eddie and Jubilee’s return. There was something about that man, and while Richie knew that the sooner Eddie returned, the sooner he’d be out of his life forever, he couldn’t help but want him back in his sights. He spent the first ten minutes of their absence fantasizing about kissing the stranger. Richie pictured Eddie gliding back to the lodge, chest heaving from exertion, cheeks flushed. He pictured kneeling in the snow to help Eddie out of the ski bindings, and Eddie slowly but confidently raising Richie back up to full height with a hand on his jaw, backing him up the steps, kissing him senseless against the lodge door. A lazy smile had grown on his face. Richie loved to daydream about making out. He always had. Any boring dinner, lecture, downtime waiting in line at the grocery checkout, his mind immediately started conjuring up scenarios involving his latest crush. His imagination was the only action he’d seen in a long time now, but it kept him amused. And ready, inspired, if an in-person, real makeout ever happened. Ever again. Somehow. Despite the fact that he was not putting himself out there. At all. 

Distracted from his happy thoughts, Richie shook his head and got to work. He decided his best chance of getting to talk with Eddie any longer than the bare minimum of having the rented poles thrown at him, pointy tips aimed for his softest parts, would be to have some hot chocolate ready for Eddie and Jubilee after their ski. He scanned the rental room for anything else he could set out, and spotted a deck of cards. He could hope. Maybe they’d get to chat and hang out for just a little while before he truly closed up for the night. Don’t get your hopes up, Rich, he thought to himself as he wiped down a table with a nice view - not the parking lot - and set out the deck of cards and three mugs. 

Reward in place, Richie tried to be efficient with the rest of his closing duties so he could focus on Eddie and Jubilee when they returned. He turned the radio down so he could count the cash, tally the logbook and rentals, and put the money in the safe. He turned the radio back up so he could have a little fun while he filled his mop bucket. While the water was rising and the bubbles emerging, he felt another rush of cold air as the back door swung open. He couldn’t stop himself from popping his head out excitedly - they were back already?

The couple who stumbled, laughing, into the lodge were not Eddie and his daughter. “Oh, hi Kay. Hi Audra.” Richie shut off the water and emerged from the bathroom, feeling a little sheepish. 

“Jeez Rich, don’t sound so happy to see me!” Kay teased. Richie stuck his tongue out at her in response.

“How was your ski? You folks do the advanced trail?” Kay and her girlfriend Audra were regular skiers, and Kay was very strong and fast. She helped coach one of the racing teams while Richie’s expertise lent itself to coaching the young, novice kids and distributing the hot chocolate and fresh-baked treats afterwards. 

Audra shook her head. “We were going to, but with the lights out we stuck to just the moderate trail this time. I hate to miss a chance to do the advanced trail but we just didn’t think we had enough time tonight. We took it easy instead and it was fun. Thanks, Rich.”

He smiled. “You guys would be fine without me here, you know that. But it’s nice to see you.” People with their own skis were welcomed to ski anytime, so long as conditions weren’t dangerous. Richie’s main function as a volunteer was keeping the lodge warm and running in case anyone needed the washroom, a warm place to change, a snack or water, first aid or the telephone (heaven forbid), or rental gear. 

“We’re still coming over this week for your birthday, right?” Kay inquired.

“Yeah, same as usual.” Richie smiled. “I’m looking forward to having everyone together.” He paused. “I only have two other people left out on the trail tonight - a father and daughter here for the first time. You probably saw them on your way back - did they seem like they were doing okay?”

Kay and Audra looked at each other. “We didn’t see anyone else out there, Rich. What trail did they do?”

“Beginner.”

“When did they leave?”

Richie checked the clock. They’d left 40 minutes ago. They should be back any minute now. Kay and Audra had probably just missed them. “They left at 5. I guess they’d probably be close to the exit now.”

“Yeah, they were probably still on the front half of the trail when we got to the junction. They wouldn’t have started out all that long after us, but we’d be faster. We’d have been ahead of them the whole time, even with the added distance.” Audra puzzled.

Kay looked at Richie. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you worry. What’s got you worried about this? It’s pretty normal for newbies to take like 45 minutes on that trail, right?”

“Yeah… I don’t know, I guess I’m just excited to find out how it went for them. The sun will be setting in about 20 minutes. Maybe I’ll give them until then and I’ll go out and look?”

“You know better than us Rich. Do you want us to stick around until they’re back? We don’t mind.”

Trying not to worry, Richie dismissed them. “I’m sure it’s fine. They seemed capable enough. You guys can go, but would you mind if I called you later to come help if we needed?”

“Not at all. We’re not far from here. Will you let me know when they get back, either way?”

Richie nodded. “Okay, I’ll finish cleaning up here and if I’m still worried about them and they’re not back, I’ll call Stan and head out looking.”

Kay clapped him on the shoulder and said “sounds good. Okay, goodnight for now Rich, hope we don’t see you again tonight but no worries if you want us to come back.”

His friends gone, Richie quickly mopped the bathrooms, scrubbed the toilets, and wiped down the surfaces. He turned the lights off in the bathrooms and checked them off his list. Draining his mop bucket, he refilled the sink with soapy water to scrub off the spilled hot chocolate from earlier. Closing duties finished, he looked at the clock to see it was now 6pm. The sun would be setting. Twenty minutes of dusk left before dark. Eddie had headlamps, he reminded himself. But still. 

He paused for a moment and looked out the window. It was quiet. No joyous voices approaching. No slide of skis or click of boots and poles. No sight of a red coat and toque or a yellow snowsuit. No Eddie or Jubilee. Yet. Richie sighed. He put on the oven mitts and carried the pot of hot cider over from the wood stove and set it on the tiled counter. He ladled some into a thermos and left the rest to cool. Richie clicked on the kettle to make fresh hot chocolate. That he was hoping to serve to a triumphant Eddie and Jubilee. While he talked to them and got to know them better. His ears burned a little with the shame of his earlier enthusiasm. It was taking them too long to ski the trail. Something had happened. If they got back on their own, they wouldn’t be happy. This wasn’t a happy pace. They’d be scared, irritated, cold, annoyed. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they didn’t get back on their own.

But he was working. So he had to. While the water heated up, Richie cautiously and slowly walked over to the paperwork area of the back room. He stared up at the red binder on the shelf. Emergencies. _When I reach for this, the door will open and they’ll come in, totally fine, and I’ll feel like an idiot._ He told himself.

He reached. Stretched. Slowly. _C’mon Eddie, make me feel like an idiot,_ he thought. _I’m giving you time, here._ His fingers made contact with the sharp plastic edge of the binder. Silence. No change. No Eddie. No Jubilee. With another sigh, he pulled it off the shelf. Every step, pausing, waiting to be proven wrong. 

_This is not an emergency._

Emergency protocols binder

_They are not lost._

Lost skier tab. 

Holding his breath, Richie scanned the page of the procedures for a lost skier. He looked over at the thermometer for the outdoor air temperature. He checked the weather app on his phone. No wind chill, thank fuck. No chance of frostbite yet. 

Unless they somehow got wet, fell through some ice, did something really reckless, they would be okay. Just lost. Just maybe scared. Just slow. Just not here, safe, warm, smiling, laughing, teasing, enjoying hot chocolate and then walking and driving out of Richie’s life, forever.

_Still in it, for now._ He thought to himself. _Until I find them. I have to go find them. And bring them back._

According to the protocol, they weren’t officially lost or missing yet. He could give them one more hour before he called the club president, Stan, to initiate the lost skier procedure. Volunteers would come in and start combing the trails to find them. If they didn’t find them in another hour after that, they’d call in the local ground search and rescue. The machines. They might need one anyway, depending on what had happened. Had one of the two of them broken a bone?

Richie caught himself spiraling. _Stop. Prepare your rescue sled. Call Stan. Breath. Leave a note, in case Eddie comes back while you’re gone._

Eddie! He’d signed in. He was supposed to leave a mobile number. How had Richie not thought to check already? He stumbled over to the log book and stared at the last line. He’d asked Jubilee to fill it out. “Jubilee + Daddy” is all she wrote, and their departure time. No phone number given.

_FUCK_ , Richie thought. _I was trying to be cute, giving her a job. I should have made him do it. He definitely looks like he would fill out all the fields in a form._

Richie felt even more lost, even though nothing had really changed. The club had three rescue sleds. He could give Eddie and Jubilee another hour to reappear, but it didn’t make sense. They’d been gone an hour already, and the beginner trail really should have only taken them 45 minutes. They weren’t frighteningly late, yet, really. But. It would be dark soon. They didn’t need to wait that extra hour. Richie could take one sled with him, start looking now, by himself, starting at the exit and skiing the wrong way around the loop, because he’d find them faster that way, closer to the end than the beginning. He’d call Stan, and the rest of the board and Kay and Audra and anyone else available could come look. Richie wasn’t the fastest, not by far, but he was here and ready so he’d have a head start. If he didn’t find them within the hour, on the trail, he’d call for backup and the legit missing skier search would start. 

Richie dumped fresh hot chocolate powder and some small marshmallows into another thermos, and added the boiling water. He stirred it and closed it and placed it in his backpack with the cider thermos. He added three small bottles of water to the pack. It would be a bit heavy but they’d be glad for it. When he found them. He paused one last time before taking another step, down a path he’d never been down before. Waiting. For Eddie and Jubilee to show up. And make him feel like an idiot. _Please, Eddie, make me feel like an idiot for being worried about you. I would be so relieved right now, to feel so stupid. I’ll be so glad when I see your face again. Come on, step through that door._ He held his hands out in front of him, not daring to touch the rescue sled yet. Once he did, he’d focus, his mind would only be on finding them and bringing them back. No longer on hoping that they’d just walk in. 

6:15pm. Seventy-five minutes since they’d left. Too long for healthy young people, even novice skiers going at a slow pace, to take on the beginner trail. It would be dark very soon. It was time for Richie to go. He closed his hands around the rescue sled and dragged it through the lodge, throwing open the back door to send it down the stairs to the snow. He turned back into the lodge, pulling out his phone, dialing Stan.

“Stan. Hey. I have two skiers who haven’t come back yet. Newbies, from out of state. Yeah, beginner trail. Gone an hour and fifteen. Yeah they have lamps. It’s just, everyone else is gone. I just want to make sure they’re okay. Okay. I took one sled and I’m gonna go backwards from the exit, okay? I’ll let you know as soon as I find them. Can you come here now? And call the others in 30 minutes if I haven’t found them by then? Auds and Kay said they’d come back. I’ll have my phone with me. Okay, see you soon.”

By the time he hung up with Stan, he’d grabbed some skis and poles for himself and toed out of his winter boots. He zipped up his ski boots and tightened the velcro to secure them. He’d be going his fastest. Before stepping outdoors, he grabbed two pieces of paper and a sharpie. _Just in case,_ he thought, _just in case he’s waiting until I reaaaaallly look like an idiot, out there on the trail with the sled. If he comes back before Stan gets here he won’t know why I left._ Richie, panic rising, scrawls quickly on both pieces of paper - “Eds - 6:20 - gone 2 look 4 u and jubilee. Call me if u get back 1st. Rich. 455-5098.” The fastest he’d moved all day, Richie shut the door and stuck the paper there with the heavy duty magnet. His long legs took him down to the snow in one step, and he was across the parking lot and standing at the only vehicle that wasn’t his. An obnoxious Escalade. He tucked his note under the wiper and ran back to his skis and sled. Richie heaved his laden pack onto the sled and clicked the tow bar into place around his waist. Affixing his headlamp, he adjusted the beam, took one last deep breath, and pushed off towards the trail exit, ready to find Eddie and Jubilee.


End file.
